


Vulcan Pride

by duckcrab



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek XI, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-26
Updated: 2009-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckcrab/pseuds/duckcrab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One sleepless night Uhura bumps into Spock, and tells him a little bit about herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was the middle of the night—or day. Exact time of day was always difficult to determine when nowhere near the sun, or moon, of earth. Everyone else was asleep; that was a better way to put it.

Nyota thought of the word 'sleep' in every language she knew before deciding that the actual act was going to evade her completely. What had caused this lack of fatigue? The day's events on the _Enterprise_ were fairly routine, nothing that should have been keeping her awake.

Perhaps reading would help calm her mind. Crouching down in front of her small bookcase she pulled out her favorite book: _Pride and Prejudice_. It was such a favorite of hers, in fact, that she had a habit of collecting them. In school, after she had mastered a language, she would always find herself a copy of it written in that same language. It was always fascinating to uncover the subtle differences between each language.

Sadly, a few pages into the original unabridged Romulan version, Nyota grew distracted. After carefully placing the book back into its place, she decided that a walk around the ship would be helpful, since nothing inside the room seemed to be.

She redressed in that days uniform, just in case someone else was unable to sleep and had the same idea she did. It would not be professional to meet Jim in the hallway dressed in her sleepwear, though she's not sure he would actually care. Slippers were the shoe of choice, though, for the mere fact that they were much more comfortable.

For some reason, as she walked alone under the dimmed artificial light, Nyota was reminded of Debussy's _Clair de Lune._ It was a piece she knew well, one that her mother had taught her to play on the piano as a young child. " _It sounds like you're just floating along on a cloud, doesn't it_?" she used to say, and then smile at her daughter. She smiled at the odd memory, and swallowed back a swell of tears.

"Nyota."

"Oh!" she covered her pounding heart with her hand. He had been staring out the window, at the stars and passing planets. Even as she approached, his gaze stayed outside.

"Spock, you scared me."

"I apologize. It was not my intention."

"It's alright. What are you doing up so late?"

"I, presumably like you, am having trouble sleeping."

"Any particular reason?"

He shook his head. She knew him well enough to know that meant "not any that I am willing to share at the moment".

"Me neither. I tried reading, but that didn't work, so I decided to take a walk around the ship."

"Reading? What were you reading?"

"Nothing," she said. _Pride and Prejudice_ would be drivel to him, mindless fluff.

"Please," he turned to face her. "I am curious."

"Uh—OK—I tried to read the Romulan translation of _Pride and Prejudice_ , but I couldn't really focus."

He was quiet for a moment, studying her as he always did. "You said Romulan translation. Could you not find a suitable English version?"

"No, it's not that," she said, and proceeded to tell him of her strange little habit.

To this, he lifted a dark brow, and uttered, "Fascinating. One in every language you have mastered?"

"Almost every language. I could never find a copy of it in Vulcan."

"That would be a product of our strong unsentimentally."

She wanted to wrap her arms around his middle, and rest her head on his chest, but found the strength to resist the urge. He did not appear to be overly receptive at the moment.

Perhaps because she was closer to him than anyone else she could better tell the slight differences in his moods. At times he would be open with her--as open as his Vulcan side would allow--and at other times he would close off completely. It was more than understandable after all that he had been through recently, and she respected his space.

"I see," she said. "So, you're saying that I should stop trying to find a copy."

"I am implying that it would be a futile effort."

Nyota touched him lightly on the arm, and stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Spock," she said, lightly rubbing his back. "Goodnight."

As her arm slipped away from his back, he caught it. His hand enveloped hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze before he brought it to his lips.

"Goodnight, Nyota."

Once back in her room, Nyota leaned against the door, and shook her head. Smiling a little, she climbed into bed.

If anything was capable of making her completely exhausted, it was a conversation with Spock.


	2. Chapter 2

Captain James T. Kirk—he loved how that sounded—sat sipping his coffee in a quiet corner of the mess hall. Soon enough, the crew would be awake, and filing in for breakfast. He wanted to enjoy the silence for as long as it lasted.

He read over the latest reports, and learned that the Enterprise was running smoothly. No emergencies or major mishaps to speak of, and there were no signs of enemies approaching. Lt. Uhura had intercepted a foreign transmission, but after conferring with Spock on the translation, assured him that it was nothing to worry about.

He wondered how long the peace would last.

"Captain Kirk."

Jim looked up from his papers, and gave a little smile. "Commander Spock."

"Might I have a word with you, Captain?"

"Of course, Spock. And you don't have to call me that."

"You are my superior. It is your title. I—"

"Okay, I get it. Have a seat, and we'll talk." Jim gestured to the empty seat across from him. Spock sat down, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. And his thumbs, what were they doing?

Fidgeting. Spock was actually fidgeting.

Jim sipped his coffee to hide his grin.

"Why don't you tell me what's got you all hot and bothered?"

"I find myself in need of your assistance."

Jim lifted an eyebrow. It wasn't often that a genius asked for his help. How could he refuse?

"Anything for you."

"I would like to gain access to Lt. Uhura's sleeping quarters."

Jim snickered. "I would have thought you'd already gained access."

"Now is not the time for your double entendres, Jim."

"Alright, I'm sorry. What do you need from me?"

The crew had slowly begun to shuffle into the mess.

"When the time comes, I will inform you."

Spock very coolly walked away from the conversation, leaving Jim shaking his head.

In a matter of mere seconds, Spock had overridden the security panel safeguarding Uhura's quarters, and simply walked in.

"Why do you even need me?"

"To keep watch."

"Keep watch? I'm the lookout?!"

"If that is what you choose to term yourself."

Jim peeked into her room while Spock rooted around for whatever it was he wanted. It was not the cleanest of rooms, but certainly not the dirtiest. He liked to think that he held that title. Clothes lay scattered on the floor, a pristine white bra hung over the back of a chair. All of these were things that Spock seemed to ignore.

"You are certain that she will not return soon?" he asked, eyes locking on something next to the bed.

"I'm positive," Jim assured him. "I sent her on one hell of a wild-goose chase."

From his crouched position beside Lt. Uhura's bed, Spock slowly turned his head, and stared at him.

"I'll explain it later. Hurry up!"

Kirk pressed his back against the outside wall again, trying too hard to look nonchalant. People stared at him as they passed, to which he replied with a wave, and a, "Hi, how are you today?"

"There is no need to rush me," Spock said, emerging from the room. "I have what I came for."

"Let's see it then."

Spock slid the object into Kirk's hands while he repaired the security panel, which took all of about two seconds.

"A book? All of this for a book?" He opened it, and thumbed through. "It's not even in English."

Finished with the panel, Spock snatched the book back. "That is of no consequence."

"I thought you wanted a pair of her panties, or something."

Really, the whole ordeal just seemed a waste of time now.

"Panties?" he said, contemplating the word. "What use would I have with her panties?"

Jim just shook his head. "Nevermind."


	3. Chapter 3

Simply put, it had vanished. Not even an hour long scouring of the space could turn it up. Often when the ship jerked some of her belongings would shift, but none of them had ever disappeared like this.

In a slight panic, the one that sets in when you know you've lost something utterly invaluable, Nyota's mind ran through several scenarios of what might have happened. It had fallen in behind something by some strange turn of events. She pulled everything away from the wall that would move, and came up with nothing. Somehow it had been taken out of the room. By whom? She couldn't think of a time when she ever took one of her books out of her room to read. In fact, she'd never even told anyone else about—

No. No, he wouldn't have. Would he?

His shift ended in less than an hour. She would ask him herself.

* * *

Leaning against the wall outside his door, she waited. When he walked into view he locked eyes with her, and gave the slightest smile. It nearly broke her heart to realize that in a matter of a few moments, that smile might be gone.

He reached for her hand when he was close enough, but she slid out of his reach. "I think we need to have a little talk about boundaries."

"Boundaries?"

Why did he say it like that, like he didn't know what it meant?

"You broke into my room, didn't you? And took my book?"

There was a telling pause, in which he entered the code into the security panel, and the door opened with a whoosh in the silence between them.

He paused at the threshold, looking at the floor, and then looking back at her.

"Would you like to come in?"

Her actions served as her answer, and she stepped in behind him. At his command the lights slowly turned on.

"You can come into my quarters, Spock," she said as soon as the door shut behind her, "but you have to ask."

She felt like she shouldn't have to explain this to him. He was an adult, and a genius at that.

He stayed annoyingly silent, and slipped through his quarters like she wasn't even there.

"Where are you going?" she started after him. "We have to talk about this."

She followed him into his bedroom where, under a sizable porthole, his desk sat. It was the most well ordered surface she had ever seen. Not one item had ever been out of its place. His perfectionist tendencies had never been so annoying to her.

"I am not happy about this, Spock. Can't you understand that?"

Still, he said nothing. From atop his desk he pulled an item she had never seen before, and handed it to her.

She took it, shaking her head. It was a book of some sort, perhaps a written log.

"What is this?"

"Open it."

 _To complete your collection_ was written on the very first page, and right below it was his signature. Tears began to fill her eyes.

"What did you do?"

He took a step closer to her. "Turn the page."

There it was, that illustrious first line, handwritten in Vulcan. Every page was filled with his hand, and Jane Austen's words.

How? When? None of it mattered now. Whatever feelings of anger she had towards him at that moment faded completely. Perhaps later she would reprimand him for what he'd done, but she doubted it.

Nyota gently set the book down, trailing her fingers along the front cover for a moment before turning her attention to Spock.

Tears streamed down her face now, and she made no attempt to brush them away. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and held him. When she felt his arms surround her, and pull her tighter, she turned her lips to his ear and whispered, "I love you, too."


End file.
